How Does One Become Wicked?
by The Werewolf Mage
Summary: Gen's POV. Explaining why she headed over to the Dark Side and maybe a few other things you might want to know. Rating and genres'll probably change later on
1. Chapter 1

Title: How Does One Become Wicked?

Summary: Gen's POV. Explaining why she headed over to the Dark Side and maybe a few other things you might want to know.

I'm a bit... concerned... that this won't go over as well as I want it to because I'm doing it first person. But it just fits, you know?

Chapter 1

So... you want to know why I joined up with Voldemort? From the beginning? Naturally. But where do I start? A little before I joined him? A little after? Right when? A little before, I suppose, would be better. Or shall I fill you in on the people very close to me before I tell you anything? I think I shall do just that.

Let us start with the other girls first. Marci Morrow, my blonde cousin, for some reason, looked up to me. Literally and figuratively. She was the timid one of the group, and always tried to keep out of trouble.

Celeste Helms, the very outspoken one of the bunch, didn't really need out little group. But our little group was nothing without her. We didn't get along the best, but, yeah, she was always there when you needed her.

And lastly, from the girls, Lily Evans, my very best friend. We did everything together, or tried to, at least. She was one of the few people I could sit and talk to and not get, well, bored with her. We never got mad at each other like friends often do. But once she started dating James, we kind of drifted apart.

For the boys, I think I shall start with Sirius Black, the arrogant, pompous git who has fancied me since our fifth year. Well, actually, he's not so bad, once you get to know him and he stops pranking you. He has the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen, but don't you dare tell him that!

James Potter was my favorite person, ever. He was a friend when you needed him and a tough, aggressive Quidditch captain when he had to be. Put me in my place several times over the years. But always found a chance to make a joke about it later.

I was never really close to Peter Pettigrew. We didn't get along very well. He didn't like me, I wasn't so fond of him, either.

And finally, my roommate, well, loft mate, Remus Lupin. Loved him, not a school-girl crush, but actually loved him, since our fourth year. Never really acted as though I meant anything to him. Which kind of makes you feel low. Unwanted. Unloved.

But I need to go on before I get too deep in my own self-pity.

Nearly a month after we all had graduated, Dumbledore asked us what we thought of joining a group to combat against Voldemort. It took some time, but eventually, we all went along with it. The boys agreed more hurriedly than we girls did. We took our time in thinking it over.

I felt as though fighting against Voldemort couldn't be possible. It felt as though it were wrong of us to even try.

I doubted we could do anything. The wizarding world would be doomed if we didn't try and who's to say we could have succeeded?

But between Remus and James, they talked me into agreeing. Which I guess is where this kind of started.


	2. Chapter 2

How Does One Become Wicked?

I'm actually starting to love the first person thing, because it feels as though she's telling it to, say, Dumbledore, or Remus or someone. Like, under the influence of Veritaserum or something. And, come on, how can you not know James is her favorite person? (grins)

Chapter 2

It was the morning of our first meeting with Dumbledore and I was up far earlier than I usually am. Even before Remus got up and he gets up pretty damn early. I was halfway through reading _The Daily Prophet _when he padded into the kitchen, yawning and looking startled to see me up so early. "Morning, Gen." he muttered.

"Morning." I muttered back. I folded my half-finished paper and handed it to him without another word. He can be so oblivious at times, can't he?

He was being quiet that morning. Well, quiet for Remus, which is saying a lot. Damn, I think I just made a pun, didn't I?

I asked him what was wrong and he shrugged as if he didn't know. So, I ignored it. If he didn't want to talk to me, fine.

Of course, I felt rather put off, but I wasn't going to let him see that. At that moment, a large barn owl flitted in through the open window and knocked my pumpkin juice over, a letter held fast in its beak.

"Now what do you want?" I asked the owl, frowning at it. It hooted, dropped the letter and flew back out of the window, clipping its wing against the side.

It was a letter from Dumbledore; the meeting was canceled, though he didn't explain why. "So," I began, waving the letter in one hand, clearing the spilled pumpkin juice with the other, "free afternoon. What should we do?"

"We?" Remus asked, finally glancing up from his paper.

"Yes, we. You're not moping around all afternoon, I won't let you."

"I'm not moping." he told me, frowning. "Besides, I need to do something this afternoon. You can do whatever you please."

I felt like making a perverted crack at that moment, but decided against it. "Fine, and I'm sure I'll enjoy myself!" I snapped, heading to my room to change.

I resigned myself to wandering around Diagon Alley. It was not very fun or enjoyable, but it was better than staying at the loft, moping, or pining, or whatever the hell you want to call it.

Running into Sirius Black doesn't really help one's mood. "Afternoon, Miss Moore." he grinned at me from the doorway of The Leaky Cauldron. "Care to join me for a drink?"

"Not on your life." I spat, brushing past him.

"Why are you so irritable today?" he asked, following me outside.

"Why do you even care?" I asked coolly.

"'Cause I hate it when you're mad." he muttered sheepishly.

I frowned at him. He had the worst habit of showing up whenever I thought I was going to enjoy myself. With another glare in his direction, I Disapparated and landed instead, at Hogsmeade, which, actually is much more enjoyable than Diagon Alley.


	3. Chapter 3

How Does One Become Wicked?

Of course Snape's gonna be in it! Can't have wickedness without Snape, can we, now?

Chapter 3

I was beginning to feel a tad left out, as it were. Everyone was being so secretive as of late and I didn't know why.

After regular meetings with the Order of the Phoenix, my mindless job, and attempting to avoid Sirius, I was dead tired. Too tired to even bicker with Remus.

And we bickered pretty much constantly.

Anyway, there I was, in The Three Broomsticks, minding my own damn business, when someone sat down next to me. And me, being me, did not care who it was, but I was very pissed that they had interrupted my thoughts.

"One should never drink alone. It is one of the most common mistakes anyone can make."

I glanced up. Dumbledore had taken the seat next to me, and was smiling in that vague way he does. "I wasn't drinking." I told him. "I was thinking."

Well, it was partly true. I had been drinking, just a bit, and I WAS thinking.

Dumbledore looked as though he didn't believe me. But I didn't care. "Care to enlighten me?" he asked.

I shook my head. I only shared my thoughts with two people, three at the most. But I didn't feel like talking to anyone right then and there. I had to admit, though, Dumbledore did make good company.

I left a little after nine that night, wanting to go to bed right when I got home. I had the thought of just renting a room for the night, but, I made it home in one piece.

The loft was empty, a very odd thing indeed. Usually, Remus stays up at least until I get back. But he wasn't there. So, I flopped down on the couch, stretched out, and immediately fell asleep.

One James Potter felt it was his duty to wake me up. "Evening, Gen. May I ask where your roomie is?"

"I don't know." I groaned, covering my head with my pillow. "And I don't care!"

"Of course you do!" James said. I could tell he was grinning at me.

"No, I don't!"

"OK, fine, be that way."

"Fine, then, I will!"

A little while after James left, I heard Remus come in and flop down in the chair next to the couch. "Gen, you awake?" he asked softly.

"No." I answered, trying not to laugh.

"OK, then. Good night."

I sat up, glancing around. He had already headed to his room. I frowned. James had woken me up and I needed company. But if Remus was asleep, or, trying to go to sleep, I had no company. I started to sulk. Why was it no one wanted to be around me? Was I cursed?


	4. Chapter 4

How Does One Become Wicked?

Why, yes, yes it is! Before you read this chapter I want you all to understand, this – is – not – cliched! Or I'm trying not to make it be.

Chapter 4

It was a cloudless, calm Monday night. And I was heading home from my dead-beat job. Bartending. In a sleazy, dingy little pub. It's not as though it wasn't a fun job, but, damn. You try getting hit on by increasingly drunk, and highly unattractive, wizards five nights a week.

Anyway, I was heading down a deserted street leading back up to the main high street of Hogsmeade so I could drop by Honeyduke's on the way home. I heard something behind me and figured it was a plain old alley cat or something.

Then I heard a rustle of fabric. Alley cats don't wear cloaks. Before I could turn and raise my wand, someone muttered, _"Imperio!"_

It was bliss. Not a care in the world. No thoughts of Remus, Dumbledore, the Order, the Death Eaters, of anything. A very cloudy, light-as-air kind of feeling washed over me. Then, I heard a very soft voice, one that sounded kind of familiar.

_Gain their trust... lead the Prewetts to us..._

I couldn't argue. The Imperius Curse was too strong for me to fight. Whoever had it on me broke the curse. I shook my head to clear it, wondering what on earth had happened. Suddenly, I wasn't in the mood for chocolate.

I brushed the thoughts of the Prewett brothers out of my head. Looking back now, whomever it was that threw the Imperius Curse at me was very good at what they were doing. Even though they had broken it, the thought was in the back of my mind, waiting for a chance to take it.

But that's later.

I shook my head again. I was already past Honeyduke's, not realizing where I was going. Like I said, though, not in the mood for chocolate.

I got home later than I hoped. I reckon I was pale and shaking, because as soon as I stepped foot in the door, Remus wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me to the couch. "You OK?" he asked softly. "What happened?"

I shrugged, shaking my head once more. At that time, I couldn't really remember being under the Imperius Curse. But I felt bad, lying to Remus like that. But I couldn't help lying. I didn't know why I was lying.

He gave me another concerned looking and said, "Gen, I don't like you bartending at that pub. I want you to quit."

"Remus, I can't quit. It's the only job I've got. I doubt I could find another on such short notice, anyway, and the rent's due next week."

"Yeah, you're right." he sighed. I could tell something was bothering him, too. Looks like I wasn't the only one keeping a secret.


	5. Chapter 5

How Does One Become Wicked?

Really? You think so? I thought it was rubbish, myself, so, thanks for making me feel a bit better. It's so sweet, he's so protective of her! (giggles) You might hate her again, once you find out my later chapters.

Chapter 5

Well, things just went from bad to worse. I woke up the next morning with a slight sense of dread. It was all I could do to keep from curling up and staying under the blankets all day long.

But Remus felt the need to go barging in my room and waking me up. "Come on, Gen. Dumbledore won't like it if we're late."

"Well, Dumbledore can piss off." I muttered, half-asleep.

"Gwendolyn..." Remus began in a threatening tone. I sighed and half opened an eye and glanced at him.

"Yes?" I asked as sweetly as I could.

"Nevermind." he sighed. I heard my bedroom door shut a moment later. Apparently, he did not want to argue with me. Fine by me. I didn't feel like arguing, either.

I chanced a glance at the clock, and, well, we WERE late. Dumbledore was probably going to skin me or something. I dressed at top speed, made sure everything was right, then raced into the kitchen, where Remus was frowning, glanced impatiently at the clock.

"What?" I asked.

"Forget it." he sighed. "Ready to go now, princess?"

"Princess? Who the hell do you think you are, getting off calling me a princess?" I snapped.

"Well, you are! Or you think you are, anyway!" he snapped back.

I glared at him. What on earth was his problem? I had half a mind to stay back, but something was urging me to go with him. I decided a silent treatment might work and Disapparated after him.

Lily, James, Sirius, Dumbledore, the Prewett brothers, and a few other people I did not know and I didn't really care to get to know, were waiting almost as impatiently as Remus was for me that morning.

"What's the matter, Gen?" Lily asked, leaning over next to me. "Fight with Remus?"

"Oh, yeah." I scoffed, glaring at Remus, who was in deep discussion with Dumbledore. No doubt over me. But I didn't care. Well, actually, I did care, but I tried not to show it. Instead, I focused my attention on the Prewett brothers. Gideon, a bit taller than his brother, Fabian, waved when he saw me watching them. Sheepishly, I waved back.

I paid no mind to Dumbledore, either, except when he said something about needing a few of us to do something for him. Gideon and Fabian nearly jumped at the chance and said they would do anything necessary. Mad-Eye Moody, naturally, agreed to go too.

"I – I'll do it." I said weakly. I don't know why I was agreeing to go, but something clicked in my head and I felt the need to go along with the Prewetts and Mad-Eye.

"Gen, don't!" Sirius hissed.

"I'll do it." I said again, more confidently this time. "Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

Even Dumbledore look taken aback. "Certainly. You four stay behind, I'll fill you in."


	6. Chapter 6

How Does One Become Wicked?

This IS rather exciting, is it not? And I think I'm enjoying myself far too much. Dumbledore skinning Gen, yeah, I could see it. And it's not a pretty sight, lol.

Chapter 6

I felt a tad bit put off, being the only woman going along with the group. And Gideon felt it was his duty to make sure nothing happened to me. I pained no attention to details as much as the men did, but Gideon gave me the gist of it along the way.

"So, what you're saying is, we are to, uh, meet with these... people... and convince them to join us?" I asked, not fully understanding his meaning.

"Not people, no." Gideon replied, a soft smile on his face. "They're like half-lings, if you will. Not human, not vampire, or werewolf, or whatever it is Dumbledore said we would be dealing with."

"Half-lings?" I asked, an obvious note of fear in my voice. "Uh-huh. Couldn't Dumbledore do this himself?"

Gideon laughed at me and promised to protect me.

I mean, I can take care of myself! I have since I was rather young, anyway. But, damn. Half-lings? Uh-uh! If I knew what I was getting into, I'd've never agreed to do it, even IF the little bit of the Imperius Curse wouldn't leave me alone.

Mad-Eye and Fabian did not seem too pleased to have me in their midst. Screw 'em. I can do anything they can do. At least, I HOPED I could do anything they could do.

But when we got to wherever it was we were going, I am sorry, my memory right now is not the best in the world, things did not seem right.

"Stay behind, Gen." Gideon whispered.

Stay behind? No way! But before I could even try to help in any way possible, at least a dozen Death Eaters ambushed us. One of them grabbed me and said in a very sinister whisper, "The Dark Lord requests an audience with you."

"The Dark Lord? Request an audience with me, a Muggle-born?" I asked.

"Yes, much to my surprise too."

I glanced around. The Prewetts were involved in a struggle between five or six masked Death Eaters. One had fallen. Mad-Eye was barking at me to help them, but, the Death Eater had a very firm grip on my forearm. "What exactly does your Dark Lord want? To serve me tea before he kills me?"

"I don't know. He just said to simply bring you to him, unharmed."

"OK," I replied, before I could stop myself. My curiosity had gotten the best of me before, and it certainly was now. "Let's go see what he wants."

Keeping a firm grip on my arm, the Death Eater Disapparated. We found ourselves in a dimly lit study of a very old, dusty house. "Ah, Miss Moore."

"What do you want?" I asked, a slight tremble in my voice.

"Don't be so suspicious!" Voldemort hissed, laughing lightly. "I ask you here for a reason, and an offer." I gazed at him, confused. Why would he offer me anything? But, he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. I remembered hearing rumors of him being a Legimens. "I'll get you anything you want. As long as you do something for me."

"I doubt you could get me what I want." I said with a small scoff.

"I could. Just do one little thing for me."

I considered this. I finally decided to go along, knowing he'd probably kill me either way. Besides, I wanted to know what he'd make me do.


	7. Chapter 7

How Does One Become Wicked?

(Darth Vadar breathing) I am your second cousin twice removed from your mother's side on the eve of her wedding to your father, who is my favorite uncle one removed, brother to your grandfather. Tee-hee, that made no sense.

Chapter 7

I rubbed my left forearm where the Dark Mark had been branded on me as soon as I agreed to do whatever it was Voldemort wanted me to do. Why couldn't they have put me under the Imperius Curse while they did it? I'm sure it wouldn't have hurt as badly.

I was dreading the return home. I knew something bad had happened and I was probably going to get blamed for it.

I was accompanied to the outskirts of Hogsmeade by two men. The first being Fenrir Greyback. I had the sneaking suspicion that he only wanted to go with me was because he was told that if I did not go along with Voldemort's orders, he could tear me apart if he pleased.

The other, a very nervous Severus Snape. He, unlike Greyback, who was hissing very softly in my ear, did not say a word.

The left me outside of The Hog's Head, and I timidly stepped inside, hoping Dumbledore would be around. He was. But so was Mad-Eye, James, Sirius, and Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, the barman of the pub who so kindly allowed us to use it as a meeting place when all our other meeting places were not accessible.

And everyone had a somber expression on his face. "What happened?" I asked softly, kind of dreading the answer.

"The Prewetts are dead, Gen." Sirius said in a kind of a hoarse whisper. I knew he was regretting all those times he had referred to Gideon as "Gideon the Git".

"But you know that, don't you?" Mad-Eye barked. Numbly, I shook my head. "Oh, you don't? I saw you Disapparate with that Death Eater!"

Everyone looked at me, shocked by what Moody had said. Wordlessly, James strode across the room and, before I could say or do anything, pulled up the left sleeve of my robe. The Dark Mark showed innocently on my arm and James stared at it for a fraction of a second before slamming me against the wall. "You treacherous little wench!" he growled.

I had no chance to explain myself. None whatsoever.

"I thought we could trust you, Gwendolyn." Dumbledore said in a slow, pained voice nothing like his own.

"You've been selling us out to Voldemort, haven't you?" Sirius asked softly.

"No – no, I haven't. Sirius, you've got -- "

"How long, Gen?" James asked, his nose a mere fraction of an inch away from mine. "How long have you been selling us out?"

"I haven't!" I spluttered. "What – what would I have to gain?" I asked him softly, trying not to cry.

"I don't know." James answered honestly. "But he could have bribed you."

"There's always the Imperius Curse." Sirius added hopefully.

James seemed to be weighing this option. I hoped against hope that he would see that I HAD been under the Curse. But no. Numbly, he tossed me from his side, grabbed his cloak and Disapparated, no doubt going to tell the others.

I landed roughly on the floor and glanced at the other four before taking my own leave. It looked as though I had no choice but to side with Voldemort after all.


	8. Chapter 8

How Does One Become Wicked?

Yeah, I use a lot of Medieval terms... I think I'm a noblewoman trapped in a modern day 16 year-old's body. Yes, it is rather beautiful, yet, sorrowful. I intend to explain a bit more than just what's probably in your mind right now. Like why Gen's kind of close to Snape and why Fenrir hates her. But, yeah, all for later chapters. Maybe.

Chapter 8

So. There I was. Alone. Friendless. No place to go. Well, except back to the Death Eaters. And I didn't feel like crawling back to them. Not yet anyway.

I headed back down the high street, shivering slightly. It was a rather chilly evening and I didn't have my cloak. And I was cursing myself for having to wear my thinnest robes.

My back ached from where James slammed me against the wall. I wondered vaguely whether or not he had gotten around to telling Remus, but then I realized with a sob, that Remus was probably the first person he told.

There I was, alone in the world, and all I could concern myself with was how on earth Remus was going to get the rent paid. As you know, he's a werewolf, and they have the toughest time finding a job, which was the main reason I wanted him to stay with me.

As I neared the gates, I settled myself in a secluded clump of bushes. My arms were wrapped around my knees and I was trying to keep from shivering. I started to cry as I thought of everything that had happened in the past few hours.

Gideon and Fabian were dead and it was all my fault. Everyone in the Order now thought I was a turncoat. I don't think I ever felt this alone before.

As I dried my tears on my sleeve, I heard the unmistakable sounds of someone Apparating nearby. Two, three more followed. I stayed as silent as I could and listened.

"Do you think they've realized Moore's on our side?" a voice asked softly. I could roughly make out whomever it was, staring towards The Hog's Head.

"Of course they have." sneered another voice, this one I recognized as Lucius Malfoy.

"For some reason, Dumbledore is always two steps ahead of us." Fenrir Greyback said with a growl. "I'll bet -- "

The last person held up a hand to stop him. The next moment everything was black.

When I came around, I found myself in a very elegant bedroom. The blankets were silky, a very deep emerald green. Two very heavy bookcases, one laden with books, the other, several various artifacts, stood at opposite ends of the room. The windows were high and draped with the same emerald fabric that the blankets were made from. There was a full length mirror on the back of the door. A large, life-sized portrait of a young woman with sleek, pale blonde hair and shocking grey eyes glared at me.

"So, they've allowed Mudblood filth in here, have they?" she asked, brushing a speck of dust off her silvery dress.

"I'm not filth." I said before I could stop myself. "And just where is "here" anyway?" I added, hopping out of the bed and glaring at her.

"The East wing of the Malfoy Manor, of course. In my old bedroom." The woman looked at me as though I should have known this before asking. "And, yes, you are filth."

I don't know why, but I pulled back the left sleeve of my robe and showed her the Dark Mark on my arm. "Filth? Would filth have this?"

"Oh!" she gasped. "My apologies." she said, still gaping. She sank into a kind of a curtsy and smiled. "My apologies." she repeated. "I am Fallon Malfoy, mother of Lucius. Please do forgive my rudeness."

"But what am I doing here?" I asked, ignoring her simpering tone.

"I can answer that." a cold voice called from the door. "And please, do not harass my mother's painting."

"She's not harassing me, Lucius!" Fallon said with a smirk to match her son's.

Lucius held out a hand to me, and I took it, numbly. "The Dark Lord wishes to speak to you, if you're up to it."

"Certainly."


	9. Chapter 9

How Does One Become Wicked?

I love Fallon, she's so cool! (happy noise) She's one of the few I could actually picture when I write her. Damn, I wish I could draw now.

Chapter 9

I followed Lucius down a very long, shadow-y hall, wondering what the hell I had done now. And why the hell did Voldemort wish to speak with me? It was so not like him. So, I figured he was using me for something. Who knew I could be useful? Certainly not me.

But I was fine with it as long as I didn't die just yet. I had to redeem myself first. How I was going to do that, I had no clue. I'd figure something out, though.

And damn Lucius Malfoy for leaving me at the door! I didn't want to be by myself! I mean, really, who would want to?

But Voldemort insisted on further creeping me out by offering me a chair and a drink, trying to treat me like an equal. I had, thankfully, been around Mad-Eye far too long and refused the wine.

He was none too happy with that, but thankfully did not feel like maiming me at the moment. I was told to stay in Malfoy Manor since the Order was probably plotting my murder as we spoke.

Our meeting was rather short and he seemed hurried to get me out of there. So, naturally, my curiosity got the best of me and I back tracked to the door after a few minutes and crouched nearby, hidden in the shadows of a large statue.

"... why you insist on the Mudblood on our side, My Lord." came the growl of Fenrir Greyback.

"As I've told you before, Fenrir, do not question me. She may be a Mudblood, but she's a bi-polar Mudblood."

A small silence followed that as I knelt, scowling, my knees falling asleep. So, that was what he wanted with me?

"Bi-polar?" came Lucius Malfoy's carrying voice. "By which you mean...?"

"When her emotions get too much out of hand, she becomes too powerful for her own good. Wouldn't you rather her be with us than against us?"

I had heard enough. Scrambling from my hiding place, I raced down the hall as quickly as I could without making noise and locked myself in Fallon's room, where she immediately voiced her concern.

"Are you all right, dear? You look pale and awfully shook up."

"Fine, fine." I gasped, sinking onto the bed. I don't know why it shook me up so much, but, it did. I mean, I figured I was being used, but, for that? A disorder I had struggled with all my life? That was, for lack of a better saying, not cool!

"Are you sure? I'm sure I could send for a house elf to bring you something." Fallon crooned.

"Positive." I said, still panting. And what the hell was going to happen if I didn't go along with Voldemort?


	10. Chapter 10

How Does One Become Wicked?

I know! Poor Gen, a pawn in everyone's corrupt game of chess! I got three people to drawn Fallon for me, yay! They're in my journal at gaiaonline if anyone wishes to see them.

Chapter 10

Fallon turned out to be much more enjoyable than one would think. Of course, every story she told was about herself, which was amazing, actually. She died so young and yet, everything she told me was different.

And she, in turn, seemed to enjoy my company as well. "You know, the only time anyone came in here was to clean and no one ever spoke." she sighed dramatically.

"Sorry to hear that." I muttered, lazing around on the bed, staring at the ceiling as it changed from yellow to orange-ish red, to violet, then to a deep navy blue as the sun set.

"Very pretty, isn't it?" she sighed.

"Fallon, how did you die?" I asked, my curiosity once again getting the best of me. She looked as though she rather not answer me, so I added a quick, "You don't have to tell me if you -- "

"Childbirth." she muttered shortly, interrupting my stammers.

I was a bit startled by that. That was the last thing I expected her to say. "Oh, I – I'm -- "

"Makes you not want children, doesn't it?" she said with a faint sneer on her face.

"Yeah." I said with a weak chuckle. "Yeah, it does."

She gave me a vain smile and sighed. "You know they're using you, right?"

"I sure do." I said, sighing, too. "I'm always used and I hate it."

Fallon gave me what I assumed to be a sympathetic smile. "Why not run away?" she asked softly.

"Because running never solved anything." I grumbled.

"Oh, you're right. Looks like you're, for the lack of a better term, screwed over." Fallon sighed.

"Thanks, Fallon. You're a great help." I muttered sarcastically.

Fallon ignored my sarcasm but did not speak to me for the rest of the night. It was another long, sleepless night for me. Finally, I dozed off around four in the morning. Thankfully, no one felt the need to wake me up until lunch time. Well, no one meant to wake me up.

Bangs, crashes, and shouts were echoing down the hall. Fallon gave me a look of mass confusion as I crept to the door and opened it just a crack.

Oh, no. It wasn't Aurors, thankfully. But, Voldemort was rather pissed with several people, among them, Fenrir Greyback. Quickly I shut the door behind me so as not to been seen and get caught up in this mess.

"Now what was that all about?" Fallon asked smoothly. I shrugged.

"Couldn't run if I wanted to." I added with a weak giggle.

"No." she sighed. "No you couldn't."


	11. Chapter 11

How Does One Become Wicked?

I know, poor Gwendolyn. Ah, how about some Snape? And I don't know if I spelt Legilimency right or not. My book's packed away and I can't get to it right now.

Chapter 11

A few weeks after that little stint in the hall, I'm still not sure what the hell that was about, I was allowed out of the Malfoy Manor for a little while. Fallon advised me to run for it while I was out, but I shook my head. You really can't run away when you've got the threat of Fenrir Greyback held over your head.

But let's not mention Fenrir right now. Instead, I think I shall tell you of something truly odd.

I was heading down the High Street of Hogsmeade without a care in the world. I think I had been Imperiused again. Sure felt like it.

Anyway, as I drew near to the post office, I heard a very soft sob, it sounded as though someone were trying to suppress it. I wanted to go on my merry little way, but Snape spotted me and figured I had been sent to spy on him.

Next thing I knew, he had his wand out, glaring at me, as though daring me to laugh. "Whoa! What's your problem?" I asked, eying him warily.

"It's none of your business." he replied coldly.

"OK, not making it my business. I'm sorry." I scoffed, trying to brush past him.

"What are you up to, anyway, Moore? Skulking around Hogsmeade? Aren't you afraid of Dumbledore and his little Phoenix lot?"

"Uh, no. And what are you doing, sobbing like a child in an alleyway?" I countered.

He flushed and it was my turn to smirk. "I was not."

"Don't lie, Snape. Lying's awful. Especially when you've got the threat of Fenrir Greyback over your head." I frowned.

"He threatens you with Fenrir?" Snape asked, sounding very interested.

"Yeah, why?"

"Oh, he threatens the rest of us with our families' lives, or death." Snape grinned. "I suppose since you're rather useful, he'd rather you be maimed than killed. And family won't work, since he's already killed yours."

It was my turn to flush. "I don't care about that." I sighed. "Is that why you're all worked up? Threatening your family, is he?"

"No." he said shortly. I grinned. I love getting to people.

"Really, now? OK, then, I suppose I shall have to take your word for it." I said, smiling to myself as I turned to head down the street.

"You don't believe me." he called. "I know you don't."

"How so?" I asked. I was trying to be much more convincing than I felt I was actually being.

"He's been teaching me Legilimency." he said, almost proudly.

I rolled my eyes. "That's quite a mouthful, Snape." I said. "You sure you can handle it?"

His flush deepened. I turned on my heel and strode down the street, Disapparating at the corner, feeling very confident right then, knowing I could get on Severus Snape's nerves.


	12. Chapter 12

How Does One Become Wicked?

Yeah, I could totally see Snape doing that. He's a greasy git, but, I don't know, I've taken a shine to him as of late.

Chapter 12

After my little incident with Snape, I kind of felt it best to keep to myself, like I didn't do that anyway, and to stay on my toes. And Fallon wasn't helping me as much as she could. I asked her several times if she would please visit other paintings and find out what's going on for me. She flat out refused.

"If they see me, they'll know what it is I'm doing." she pointed out, piking at a spot on her gown.

In fact, the only time I ever saw her leave her portrait was when I threatened to burn it.

And I kind of got myself in a spot of trouble. What fun.

I heard Voldemort talking one night about the Potters and how he was planning to do away with them. And, yeah, wasn't too happy with that. I decided to become very courageous, something totally not me, and asked a favor.

He merely laughed and said, "Lord Voldemort spares no one."

"You spared me! You could've killed me without a second glance!" I pointed out, trying not to show my fear.

"Undoubtedly you shall die in the end. But right now, you are too useful to kill."

"Useful?" I demanded. "You haven't put me to use yet!"

He just laughed darkly. I headed out of the room, slamming doors, up-ending tables, and breaking very rare and valuable artifacts in my anger. Someone had to warn them. Oh, but, of course, Voldemort thought of that.

Damn him for thinking ahead!

Fenrir Greyback was casually leaning against the far wall of my room, twirling my wand between his fingers. "Going somewhere?"

"No." I replied smugly. "Nowhere. You can go now."

"As soon as I leave, you'll go to warn Potter." he smirked.

"Why should I?" I asked him coldly. "They hate me. In fact, I'd say they deserve it."

He fell for it, thankfully. Tossing my wand on my bed, he bade me good night before shutting the door behind him. "Creepy." I shivered.

"Very." Fallon agreed. "Though, I thought you liked werewolves?"

"Ah, only nice, calm, not creepy werewolves." I laughed.

"Oh." Fallon grinned, knowing full-well who I fancied. "Sweet werewolves are rather hard to come by, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are." I sighed, flopping on my bed and gazing at her. I was thinking of how I could possibly warn James and Lily. But, since they hated me now, I had no clue if they'd listen, or even believe, me.

Then it hit me: Dumbledore.

"Cover for me, Fallon." I said softly, grabbing my cloak and Disapparating.


	13. Chapter 13

How Does One Become Wicked?

Yes, Dumbledore's always there when you need him. Unless he's falling from the Astronomy Tower. XD

Chapter 13

My cloak rustled softly behind me as I headed up the high street of Hogsmeade towards Hogwarts. It seemed like forever since I had been there, but in actuality, it had only been a few years.

How exactly was I going to tell him? And would he believe me?

I doubted that, but I needed to try.

Lucky for me, no one was in the halls. Unlucky for me, I did not know the password to get into Dumbledore's office.

Very Lucky for me, he was heading out of his office as I crept down the hall. It was hard to say who spotted whom first.

But very unlucky me, Remus was with him.

"Gwendolyn? Now what on earth brings you here?" Dumbledore asked calmly. I chanced a glance at Remus, who looked as though he would rather keep walking.

"I – ah, needed to talk to you for a moment." I said, staring at the floor.

I could tell he was trying to figure out what I was up to. Remus muttered a hastily apology and headed down the hall, no doubt off to tell the others he had seen me.

I figured I looked pretty rough, but I really did not care right then. I followed Dumbledore to his office and sighed, sinking down in the chair across his desk, that nervous feeling coming back all too quickly.

"Voldemort's going to go after the Potters." I blurted before he could even say anything. "I heard it all."

Dumbledore looked at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Gwendolyn, are you certain that's what you heard?"

"Positive!" I breathed.

"And you...?"

"Are not working with Voldemort in any way, I swear it!" I said, ashamed, sounding as though I were about to cry. "Why would I want to?"

"Why has he let you live so long?" Dumbledore counted.

"Fine, then! Don't believe me!" I snapped, standing. In my anger and haste, my chair went flying. "The Potters' deaths shall be on your head!"

You know, I realized something as I headed down the hall, frightening a crowd of first years: the only time I could ever keep my emotions in check was around Remus.

"Aw, hell, isn't that perfect?" I growled, slamming the gates behind me.

"The fact that you're in serious trouble?" a cold voice growled.


	14. Chapter 14

How Does One Become Wicked?

Ha! Yes, with the fright! Poor Gwendolyn. (sniff) And, no, not Fenrir this time.

Chapter 14

Hell, trust me to get myself into this mess. Lucius grinned evilly and grabbed my wrist before Disapparating. "Well, well, well. How on earth are you going to wriggle yourself out of this one?" he asked me.

I didn't even bother to answer. I was trying not to think of what I'd look like after Fenrir got a hold of me. Yeah, I'm a bit conceited. I know, I rag Sirius about it all the time, but... oh nevermind.

I don't think I can go into detail with this. Going through it once is enough. Reliving it would be hell. But let's just say, after nearly an hour of torture, and dragged myself to my room to lick my wounds and think of a way to get out of there.

Fallon was not helping much. She was sitting smugly in her portrait, telling me all along that she knew I should not have gone.

I told you she's a suck-up. Didn't I? And if I didn't, you know now.

That hurt like hell. I was going to feel the effects of the Cruciatus Curse for days.

"Well, at least you're not dead." Fallon pointed out moodily.

"Shut up, Fallon." I groaned, tucking myself up as small as I could, but stretching back out when I realized how painful that was.

"You do know the only reason they didn't rape you, too, is because you're a Muggleborn, right?"

"SHUT UP!"

She smirked, enjoying getting to me like I enjoyed getting to Snape earlier in the week. "Where is your handsome werewolf when you need him?" she mocked. "Looks like he doesn't care – AAAAAH!" she ran for cover as I sent a Burning Hex right at her portrait.

"Now that is what I like to see." said a cold voice from the doorway. Voldemort smirked at Fallon, who peeked around the frame of her portrait, her ringlets falling into her face.

"What, people attacking portraits?" I snapped, tucking my wand away.

"Nope, raw power."

I had no idea what he meant by that and I really didn't give a damn right then and there. I let Fallon get to me, I admit it. And Voldemort could tell.

"Don't worry yourself about the werewolf." he said softly. "He is of no concern to you now."

"Yes, he is." I said before I could stop myself.

"Forget him." Voldemort said before he left.

"You had better do what he says." Fallon called from the singed portrait.


	15. Chapter 15

How Does One Become Wicked

Ah, poor Gen. I feel so bad for her! And I'm going to hate myself for writing this chapter. (wails)

Chapter 15

I had taken to one of my old habits, skulking around Hogsmeade. I was limping, clutching my ribs in pain, but I had to get out of the Malfoy Manor. I was hoping to run into somebody, anybody, I knew.

And I did. Remus.

He looked as though he was torn between walking on and grabbing me, hugging me, and taking me home.

"Hi." I said, timidly limping over to him.

"Hi." he replied, looking away.

"Remus," I began softly, gently placing my hand on his arm.

"I don't want to hear it, Gen. You sold us all out."

"But I didn't! Remus, if you would just let me explain!" I pleaded.

He opened his mouth to speak, then looked away again. I could tell he was antsy to get away from me, so I tightened my grip on his arm.

"Remus," I whispered frantically, "come on. You know me. You trust me. Don't be like this, please!"

I don't know why I was so desperate for anyone to believe me, but he had to. He just had to.

"Gen, I thought I COULD trust you." he whispered back, trying to break loose of my grip. I tightened it.

"Why would I side with him? Why, Remus? He'd just as soon as kill me if I didn't cooperate."

He did not answer me.

I sighed, now digging my fingernails into his arm. "Remus, he's threatening me with Fenrir Greyback. You don't want that, now do you?"

Something flickered in his eyes. "Of course I don't want that, for you, or for anyone else." he murmured.

"Then why won't you believe me?" I whispered.

I was amazed there weren't that many people on the street. Anyone who passed us, which was only about three or four in total, figured we were an arguing couple or something.

"Remus you know I would -- "

"No, I don't know what you'd do, Gwendolyn. Especially if there's something in it for you."

I scowled at him. "Remus John Lupin, you know me better than that!" Sure, there was something in it for me, but, still, Voldemort told me earlier to forget it.

"I thought I did know you, Gwendolyn Elizabeth Moore!" he said, wrenching himself free of my grip and Disapparating.

So, what do you think I did then? Sit down on the sidewalk and cry? Well, you're exactly right.


	16. Chapter 16

How Does One Become Wicked?

Nice to know your stalker wants you dead. (sigh) Let's just say I had something planned, but I don't think it'll happen now. Damn.

Chapter 16

I did not wish to return to Malfoy Manor. I did not wish to move from my spot on the pavement. But seeing as how it started to rain, I figured I needed to move somewhere.

"Gen?" I heard someone call.

I was much inclined to keep walking. But whoever it was raced over to me and hugged me tightly. "Ah!" I shrieked. Then I grinned, "Sirius!"

"I knew you wouldn't sell us out." he breathed. "Come on. You can stay with me if you want."

Needless to say, I was very much surprised that he offered. "Thanks, Sirius. But no thank you."

"Gen, anything is better -- "

I shook my head. "Sirius." I sighed. "I know anything is better, but they'd just go after you, too, and I don't want that."

"You – you don't?" he asked.

"Of course not! I don't want anything to happen to anyone I care about!"

Sirius looked slightly confused by that. Granted, I had been a little hell cat at school. Especially to him. But, he was one of my nearest and dearest friends and I didn't want anything to happen to him. "Well... well at least let my buy you a drink." he muttered.

"Fine." I sighed, seeing as how I was getting nowhere. "Thank you."

"Why have you been crying, Gwendolyn?" he asked, holding opened the door of The Three Broomsticks, that way we would be less noticed due to the crowd.

"I – ah, ran into Remus earlier."

"Oh, Gen, I'm sorry. He hasn't been himself lately. He, ah, has finally realized he fancies you."

My glass hit the floor with a very loud shatter, but no one noticed. "He what?" I asked.

"Yeah." Sirius nodded. "Yeah, he fancies you. And he hates the fact that you're with the Death Eaters."

I leaned over as close to him as I could stand and said, "For the last damn time, I am not with the Death Eaters. I don't want to be. I never will be. I haven't done a single thing since they asked me to stay at the Malfoy Manor! I – hate – them – all!"

"I know you do, Gen." he whispered back. "And I've been trying to tell everyone else that. But they'd rather believe the word of an Auror than an inexperienced bartender!"

"Inex – how dare – ooh!" I stormed out of the pub in anger, Sirius dropped a couple of Galleons on the table and followed.

"Think about it, Gen." he panted, catching up to me. "Who would you believe? Someone who has training and experience, or a bartender just a couple years out of school?"

"I'm telling the truth!" I shrieked. "Dammit, Sirius, I -- " I stopped myself. I didn't feeling like shouting at him. It wasn't his fault. "I'm sorry." I said, trying to gain control over my temper. "I am, but..."

"I know. You want someone to believe you and no one will." he murmured. "I'll talk to Remus for you."

"Thanks. I'll try my best to get out of there." I sighed. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, Gwendolyn."


	17. Chapter 17

How Does One Become Wicked?

Yay, my sweet stalkerness is what is keeping you from killing me! Wh00t! Gen is the bartender. Gen has trouble getting control of her emotions. She knows she's telling the truth. And the fact she doesn't really like Sirius doesn't help.

Chapter 17

Oh. Hell, I had not realized I had been gone so long. But I was miserable, no doubt. And I did not care to pay attention to time. But Fallon did.

"Do you realize it's three-thirty in the morning?" she yawned dramatically.

"No, I don't." I sighed, falling onto the bed. I was not very tired, but she advised me to get some rest.

I didn't. I just laid in bed for a little while, finally getting up, stretching. I made sure Fallon was sleeping peacefully before creeping out of the room, tucking my wand in my pocket.

I hadn't got the chance to actually wander around Malfoy Manor. This was a rare chance for me. I didn't think anyone was there besides me.

I was wrong. As usual.

"Filthy little Mudblood." Fenrir hissed. "You think you're something special, don't you?"

"No, not at all." I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well, everyone else seems to." he snapped. "Except me. You're nothing more than a filthy Mudblood. And nothing is ever going to chance that."

"Well, good. I'm glad someone here sees it that way." I said smugly, turning on my heel to go.

"You think Lupin would ever want to be with scum like you?" he asked, laughing coldly.

"Excuse me?" I scoffed, stopping with my hand on the doorknob. "You're the scum here. Not me."

OK, so I admit it. It wasn't too smart to piss him off. Especially seeing as how he'd probably rip my face or something. But I couldn't stand there and let him talk to me like that. No way.

He lunged at me and I shot a Full Body Bind in his direction. I missed. He crashed into the wall, thrown off-guard by my sudden jinx.

Soon we were engaged in a full-blown duel, except, like I said, he was more determined to rip my face off.

Several Death Eaters arrived, trying to pull us apart. My lip was busted and I had several scratches on my face and neck. Fenrir was glaring at me, determined to get away from the Death Eaters holding him back so he could finish the job.

"Now what is going on here?" asked a cold voice.

"He insulted me!" I said, spitting blood on the floor.

"She's scum and she'll always be scum, no matter what you say about her." Fenrir growled.

"She's far more useful that you, Fenrir. So I would watch myself if I were you." Voldemort smirked.


	18. Chapter 18

How Does One Become Wicked?

(giggles) Not all werewolves are bad.

Chapter 18

I've actually become able to fight off the Imperius Curse. Go me!

But then again, that poses a problem.

When I first started fighting it, no one was none the wiser. Thank you, Muggle acting classes my parents made me take.

But now, everyone, at least Voldemort, knew I could throw it off. So, like I said, that posed a mighty big problem.

Not to mention I had not heard from Sirius again. So, dammit. Damn them all!

I mean, what? No, not all of them.

"Now this brings up the question of what to do." Fallon sighed, leaning against her frame and surveying me in that bored manner of hers.

"Don't say run away." I told her sternly.

"I wasn't going to." she said with a pout.

I frowned. I had no idea what I was going to do. But there was a tap at my window at that moment and so, at the site of my beloved owl, Frank, I forgot everything else.

I let Frank inside and he flittered onto the bed. Fallon gave him a look of disgust and and turned away from him. Frank hooted, ignored her, and dropped his letter before flying back out, as though he knew I'd get in trouble if anyone saw him.

It was a quickly written note from Sirius. He had managed to convince James that I was a good girl, yeah right, and James, too, was determined to help me out, now. Especially since Dumbledore had convinced them that his and Lily's deaths were being plotted.

So, feeling slightly better, I crept downstairs to make my way to Hogsmeade when I heard Lucius and Snape talking. About me.

"He insists she'll turn out useful."

"Well, if he says she is, then she has to be." Snape muttered.

"But I don't see how. And he hasn't exactly used her for anything yet, now has he?"

"No."

"So, you see what I mean. If she's no use, and he won't put her to use, why not just kill her now, get it over with?" Lucius asked smugly.

"I don't think you're understanding him, Lucius. Besides, if he wanted her dead, wouldn't he have let Fenrir finish her off?"

"Not unless he wanted to do it himself." Lucius scoffed.

"That's true." Snape said with a grimace.

"I'll give her a week, at the most." Lucius said, laughing coldly.

OK, so, now everyone was betting on my death? Well, Lucius, I'll bet you I could last far more than a week.


	19. Chapter 19

How Does One Become Wicked?

Aha, I love David Thewlis as Brother Gilbert in Dragonheart, but he makes a terrible Remus. My Remus, as I envision him, is sex on legs. XD

Chapter 19

"A week, Fallon! They think I can only last a week!" I said, raging and pacing throughout my room.

"Well, admit it, you're not really... murderous, now are you?"

"No, Fallon, I'm not." I sighed. "But, Fallon, I would, if I had to."

She surveyed me for a second, then answered, "I suppose you would, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would!" I nearly shouted, feeling my cheeks turning pink.

She merely glanced away, looking slightly disbelieving, but not wanting her portrait hexed again.

I heaved a downhearted sigh and sank down on the bed, feeling a bit useless at that moment.

"Oh, don't feel too bad. At least you've lived this long."

"Yeah. That really makes me feel better." I sighed.

What I really wanted, no, needed, at that moment, was to talk to Remus. But he didn't believe me. He's usually so damn trusting. And he knew me better than that. Honestly!

Well, at least James believed me now. But that still was not what I wanted.

I snatched up my cloak and headed out the door, with Fallon calling after me, "Where are you going now? You're going to get in trouble if you keep wandering off like this!"

I ignored her. I kind of wasn't sure where I was heading, either. I just wanted to get away from Fallon, Fenrir, Snape, Malfoy, Voldemort.

But I bumped into someone at the end of the walk. "Pettigrew!" I gaped, picking myself up and dusting off my robes with disgust. "Now what are you doing here?"

Peter glanced at me nervously before racing past me and into the Manor. That little turncoat! I'M not the traitor! He is!" I whispered, Disapparating.

But who would believe me?

In one of my random Disapparation fits, I found myself being dragged inside a very small, cozy cottage by a plump little witch who barely came up to my shoulders. "Don't you know it's not safe out tonight?" she whispered.

"Do what?" I asked, knowing for a fact there were no Death Eater attacked planned that night. Unless someone got drunk. Then all hell would break loose.

"Werewolves!" she whispered, looking at the full moon.

That goes to show I had lost track of time. And she realized it.

"Don't you have anywhere to go?" she asked, practically tossing me in her cottage, where a small girl of about four years old, peeked around the corner of the door, then raced down the hall, apparently frightened of me.

"N-n-no." I shivered.

"Well, you stay here." she said with a weak smile. "It's not the fanciest place in the world, but it's home, at least."

I nodded weakly, flopping onto the couch, curling up, and immediately falling asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

How Does One Become Wicked?

Man, if they got drunk, they'd smite us. Smite us all! Smite us good! (runs around in triangles) SAVE ME!

Chapter 20

I left before anyone else was awake, not wanting to intrude anymore, though I'm sure that witch would not have minded. Plus, I couldn't let anyone find the Dark Mark on my arm. I'd probably be sentenced to death or something.

I sat down behind a low stone fence, drew my knees to my chest, and tried to think of what I could possibly do.

So, Peter was a turncoat. Not me. Well, I suppose that could make me feel better, in a way. But who would believe me? James? Dumbledore? I don't know.

"So, this is a bit of a dilemma, Gwendolyn." I told myself.

James would have made a crack about me talking to myself, I know he would have. He says I shouldn't do it. Muggles might think I'm mad, and wizards will know I am.

Of course, Muggles think you're mad anyway if they see you wandering around in your robes. And then they think they're drunk if they see you Apparate or Disapparate. Sirius loves messing with Muggles like that.

He's such a prude, honestly.

But, wait a second. Why am I thinking about them when I SHOULD be thinking about what I'm going to do?

I picked myself up, dusted my robes off and wandered to Hogsmeade, looking for some type of breakfast. I nibbled a little pastry thingie from Honeyduke's and wandered around, glancing in the shops and generally just blending in.

Until someone grabbed me from behind.

"James, you git!" I laughed, tossing my arms around his neck. "Scare the hell out of me, why don't you?"

"OK." he grinned. "Really, though, what are you doing, all alone in Hogsmeade. Eating a pastry?"

"Well, I'm all alone in Hogsmeade, eating a pastry." I laughed.

"Don't get cute with me, Gen." he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and walking down the street with me. "Really, though. Dumbledore says you're worried about us?"

"Well, I am! YOU'VE been marked for death!"

James merely shrugged that off. "I think we're ALL marked for death, love."

"Yeah." I sighed. "You have a point."

"Something bothering you?" he asked lightly.

"Yeah." I said again. "Yeah, there is. Peter's been meeting with Voldemort."

"Peter? Little rodent, pain in the arse, Peter?"

I nodded. "Yes, he has."

"Well, I doubt he knows anything of use to Voldemort." James shrugged. "I mean, really, we don't usually tell him anything."

I laughed. "James! That's harsh!"

"Yeah, well, when have we ever been nice to Peter?" James scoffed.

Hmm. He had a point. "James..."

"Don't worry about it, Gwendolyn." he smiled. "But, sorry, I really need to get back to Lily."

I nodded, saying nothing.

"Oh, don't look so hurt, Gen! We'll be fine. I promise."

"All right." I sighed, brushing a light kiss against his cheek. "See you around, James."


	21. Chapter 21

How Does One Become Wicked?

I would totally do that if I could Apparate! It'd be cool. They NEED to listen to her, but I doubt anyone would.

And, be forewarned. There is a twist in the near future.

Chapter 21

It was with a very heavy heart I returned to the Malfoy Manor for, hopefully, the very last time. I was hurt, I was tired, and I really did not wish to go back. But I had to go get something very important to me.

I passed Snape heading out and he merely nodded, looking kind of like how I felt.

On the way back to my room, my important thing tucked safely away in my robes, I was jumped from behind by one Fenrir Greyback and one Lucius Malfoy.

"The Dark Lord's not happy with you, Moore." Lucius growled.

"And neither are we. We know where you've been. Murdered that witch and her kid this morning." Fenrir said with a smirk. "Right after you left."

"Get off of me." I spat, my fingers barely touching my wand.

"Ah, no. I think we'll kill you right here." Lucius sighed. "Shame, really. You're rather pretty for Mudblood trash."

"Get off of me!" I spat again, my voice far more confident than I felt.

"Do you want to know something, Fenrir?" Lucius asked, smirking at me. "She has taken a fancy to one Remus Lupin.

"Oh, you -- !"

Fenrir cut me off with a glare. "YOU are not worthy enough to have a werewolf's child!" he spat coldly.

Before he could go on, or, rip my face off, whichever he felt like doing, I started to laugh. Man, it felt good laughing in his face. "Please! Lupin plays TiddlyWinks with my heart. Like he would want to sleep with me!"

It was obvious neither of them knew what I meant, and that TiddlyWinks is a really lame Muggle board game type thing, but they were pissed at me for laughing.

Looking back, I don't think I should have done that.

"Leave her ALONE!"

Wow. Snape is officially my damn hero.

He helped me to my feet as Lucius and Fenrir tried to pick themselves up, having been sent flying to the other end of the hall.

"Didn't think you would stick up for a Mudblood, Severus."

"The Dark Lord doesn't want her dead, yet, Fenrir. He shall allow you to kill her when he wishes."

"Oh, gee, thanks." I spat, wiping dust off of my robes.

"Right now, he feels you have no purpose. So, you should get out of here before Fenrir does rip you to shreds."

I glanced at him quickly. He was dead serious. So, I muttered a quick "thank you" and Disapparated, wondering what the hell that was about.


	22. Chapter 22

How Does One Become Wicked?

Nope, not Lily. And, that, surprisingly, wasn't the twist I was mentioning. THIS is my twist I was mentioning. But, yeah, you can consider them both twisty goodness if you wish.

Oh, and, I need an opinion: I was thinking of doing another Gen/Snape fic, this time, him telling her what he thinks of Remus. Whatcha think?

Chapter 22

"Did you find it?"

With a small nod, Snape pulled an ordinary Muggle notebook out from his robes and tossed it lightly on Dumbledore's desk. "Took me a while to find it, though."

"I daresay she did not want it found." Dumbledore sighed, turning the first few pages, which were slightly yellow with age.

"I don't doubt it, knowing her."

Dumbledore thumbed through the first few pages, stopping to read bits and pieces with Snape reading the small, loopy handwriting over his shoulder.

"Really cared for Remus, did she not?" Dumbledore asked, slowly turning a tear stained page.

"Yeah, she did." Snape muttered. "And that's exactly why she's dead now."

Dumbledore looked at Snape curiously and asked, "Really now? What gives you that idea, Severus?"

"Voldemort wanted her to, ah, spy on Remus for him. Do him in. She refused too many times and he killed her."

"You are feeling sorry for her, aren't you?"

Snape shook his head. "I can't help but feel kind of sorry for her. He did not believe her when she needed him to. But she still stuck up for him. She gave him too much credit."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "But she did care about him. And, I believe, he cared about her."

"Then why would he do that to her?" Snape asked softly.

"I suppose he did not wish to hurt her."

They read a little bit more in silence, then, Dumbledore glanced up at Snape and asked, "You saved her?"

"I did. I couldn't let them kill her. She was far too young then."

Dumbledore managed a weak smile before saying, "Well, I suppose that's it. I don't think we'll ever get any idea of what Death Eater life was like for her when she got older. I suppose Voldemort had to forgive her."

"That's can't be it." Snape frowned, taking the notebook from Dumbledore and thumbing through the last few pages. In his haste, he did not notice a very thinly ripped piece of parchment flutter out of the notebook. Nor, it seemed, did Dumbledore. "There!" he said, with a triumphant smirk, placing the notebook back on Dumbledore's desk.

The handwriting had changed, though it was still obviously Gen's, with the familiar loops, but it was hastily written as though she had only just found the time to write the last few entries.

"Well, let's read on."


	23. Chapter 23

How Does One Become Wicked?

Ah, OK, lemme explain. What you have been reading in the earlier chapters was what Gen has written in her notebook. She wanted to explain, let people know she was not guilty of Death Eaterness. I am sorry for the confusion I may have caused. And the parchment? We'll find that out later. :)

Back to the notebook, Gen's POV again.

Chapter 23

Wow, I am truly amazed that Voldemort forgave me. Of course, Fenrir was none too happy to see me. And Snape, well, he kind of looked glad to see I was still alive. I know I never thought I would say this, but thank goodness for Snape.

I didn't come back because I'm afraid of Voldemort. If anything, I'm not. But, dammit, I needed to know what was going on.

Granted, James and Lily had been dead for years, Sirius was in Azkaban, last I heard, and I hadn't heard from Remus in ages, I was feeling mighty confident.

I mean, Voldemort had settled me in nicely. Fenrir was ignoring me. Wonderful. And Snape was being less of a greasy git than usual. Perhaps out of concern?

Nevermind that now.

I headed home later that evening and curling up in a small ball in my favorite chair and grabbing _The Daily Prophet _off the table, where the news owl had left it. And spit coffee out everywhere.

So, Sirius had escaped from Azkaban? Good for him. I figured he'd probably pull something like that.

But what of Remus?

I suppose that was none of my concern. I was ready to go to bed when there was a slight tapping noise at my window. In flew a small owl, no bigger than my hand, clutching a letter that was far too big for it to deliver by itself.

I tossed the letter on the coffee table, figuring I could deal with it in the morning. But something on it caught my eye. A very familiar scrawl was on the envelope.

So, I tore the envelope open to see a very quick message from Remus.

_Gen --_

_Heard you were back. Have you heard about Sirius, yet? Dumbledore's talked me into teaching at Hogwarts this year, so I'll be there if you need me._

_-- Remus_

So, Remus was teaching. Sirius is an escaped convict. Somehow, that seemed kind of kinky to me. And funny. Because, well, I'm weird like that. But it kind of showed me, they, at least, had not changed.


	24. Chapter 24

How Does One Become Wicked?

Ah, no, sorry, she's not alive. What this is, well, is the entires of her later years as a Death Eater. And, yes, we'll have some sexy teacher Remus-ness.

And, no, bells, we won't find out about the letter – erm, I mean, PARCHMENT, until later.

Chapter 24

I was very tempted to go barging into Hogwarts to see Remus, but figured he wouldn't appreciate that very much.

So, I sent a short return letter and immediately went back to bed.

The next morning, I went to Hogsmeade, figuring no one there would remember me. Except maybe Aberforth. Man, he's got a great memory.

Even so, I dropped by The Hog's Head. It felt great to be back at Hogsmeade.

"So, Missy, you've came back?"

"I did, Aberforth." I smiled, ordering a Firewhiskey.

"Knew you weren't trouble." he said with a small grin. "Though, I'm sure most people would disagree."

"Yeah." I sighed. "You're right about that."

He nodded sadly, knowing full well the extent of public ridicule. "Well, the morning rush'll be arriving in a moment. I suggest you get yourself out of here before someone spots you and starts something."

He pointed me to the back door and I snuck out, thanking him.

"OK, where to now, Gwendolyn?" I asked myself.

I really need to stop doing that!

Anyway, I headed to Honeyduke's, feeling the need to get that lingering taste of Firewhiskey out of my mouth.

And I ran into the one person I wanted to see.

"Hi." I said, sounding very tentative, like I did when we were teenagers. Man, that was ages ago. I miss the carefree days. And James, my best friend! Oh. Nevermind.

"Hi." Remus answered, looking slightly nervous. "Ah, Gen, I want to apologize for being a prude."

"You haven't been a prude!" I said with a small smile. "Well, not recently, anyway." I added.

"Yes, but I have been a prude." he sighed.

"Ah, that. That's in the past, Remus. Forget it." I frowned slightly.

"But Gen -- "

"But nothing." I said with a teeny hint of a smile. "So, to change the subject, Dumbledore talked you into teaching?"

"Yeah." Remus said, shifting his weight and looking nervous. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Aw, Remus, at least it's a job! I mean, you didn't bite any of us when we were in school, and there's the Wolfsbane Potion, and -- "

"Yeah, you've got a point." he frowned. "I need to go, I'll see you around."

"OK." I sighed wistfully.


	25. Chapter 25

How Does One Become Wicked?

Ah, the letter/parchment. Gotta love holding it over your heads.

Hey, wanna hear something funny and/or cute? I was joking around with my sister at the playground this afternoon, and I said I was scared of the slide. She says, "Well, imagine there's boys down there." I said, "What kind of boys?" "Cute boys." "What kind of cute boys?" I asked. "I don't know, boys you think are cute!" "You mean, like brown haired boys with brown eyes?" "If you think they're cute.

And, remember, she's only six years old.

Chapter 25

It was great seeing Remus again. Granted, he did not seem very pleased to see me. I don't care. Damn, I should've pounced on him! Come to think of it, I'm shocked I didn't.

Must mean I've really matured. Yeah, right!

Come to think of it, I was ready to go back to Hogwarts. I'm sure I could've paid some girl to let me take Polyjuice Potion with her hair in it. Dammit, why can't I think of things like this sooner?

Oh, well. Before I get in trouble, I need to go on.

I was sitting comfortably in my living room, bored, when there was a knock on my door. Turns out, Snape was sent to get me. For what, I did not know. Something about Voldemort wanting a favor.

"What the hell kind of favor would he want?" I asked Snape, who shrugged. "I mean -- "

"Don't question him, Moore."

"Fine!" I scoffed. Snape is no fun, really. I mean, James, or Sirius, Remus, too, on occasion, would argue back with me. But he just stared ahead.

"Do you ever enjoy yourself?" I continued, feeling slightly dejected. Usually I could get anyone to laugh, or at least cock a smile my way. Snape, lighten up!

"Nope." he smirked.

He said nothing else as he clung to my robe and Disapparated, taking me to a very run-down looking place. Voldemort sure likes his creepy, run-down shacks for evil lairs, does he not?

"Oh, I don't -- " Before I could protest further, Snape shoved me in the study where Voldemort smiled darkly at me. "Still don't trust me, do you?" I demanded of him.

"No, not since you turned traitor."

"I did not!" I nearly shouted. "I just – they were – you -- "

He started to laugh and held up a hand to silence me. "No, just do me a favor. I'll forgive you if you get it done properly."

"What kind of a favor?" I asked hesitantly.

"A small spy job. Just a tiny little job."

"Who?"

"Remus Lupin."

I was about to say no, he could kill me then, but he added, "Sleep on it, Moore. And tell me your decision in the morning."


	26. Chapter 26

How Does One Become Wicked?

I am, too. COME ON, SNAPE! TALK SOME SENSE INTO HER!

Chapter 26

I wasn't going to do it. There was no way I was going to cause Remus's death. I had to Prewetts on my hands, and that was enough for me. Well, I did not kill the Prewetts, but I still blame myself.

And if Voldemort did not like that, he could kill me. I can fight the Imperius Curse, so that's useless. Hell, I figured his only choice was to kill me.

But, no. He had other plans for me.

"Well, then, Miss Moore, I suppose I shall have to be the one to break this to you."

"What?" I asked, slightly hesitantly. What had he done now?

"Oh, nothing. Just Aurors had found the bodies of a close friend and a family member of yours."

"And you bastard!" I hissed, trying to keep myself from crying. "You cold-hearted -- "

"That's enough!" he snapped, motioning for me to leave.

So. He killed my cousin. He killed my only other surviving school-time friend. How dare he?

No, before you say anything, I did not cry. I forced myself not to cry.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Snape asked softly.

"I don't know." I sighed. "I suppose I can see if Remus -- "

"Don't."

I looked at him, shocked. "What?"

"Lupin is going to get you in a huge rut one of these days. And you won't be able to get yourself out of it."

I stared at him. Since when did my personal life become his business. And I asked him that.

He glanced around for a second, making sure no one was around, and whispered, "Voldemort knows you love him. And he's using that to his advantage. He'll do anything to keep you on his side, to keep you loyal. Including using Lupin."

"He wouldn't!"

"He killed your cousin, did he not?"

"I – you – how? Why?"

Snape just shook his head. "I need to get back to Hogwarts, Moore. Take care of yourself. And remember what I said."

So. Snape was looking out for me? On orders, maybe? From Dumbledore, or Remus, I would suppose.

Oh, this was great. Another fine mess I've gotten myself in. Damn. I figure, though, I needed to talk to Snape. He seemed to be one of the few that Voldemort would confide in. So, TO SNAPE'S! I mean, TO HOGWARTS! And, mayhaps some shagging of the hot Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor? I kid, I kid! Sheesh.


	27. Chapter 27

How Does One Become Wicked?

Danke. Yay for Snape! And yay for people drawing my OCS for my birthday. Wh00t!

Chapter 27

I was going to go directly to Hogwarts the next morning, but, unfortunately, I had caught some kind of cold. So I curled up under my blankets, sniffling, sneezing, running a fever, and considering my options.

And the best thing I could think of doing, would be to say I would spy on Remus, but give false information. Granted, that wasn't going to work, since Voldemort's a Legilimens or whatever they are.

But, I figured I might be able to fool him.

Might being the keyword there.

During a particularly violent sneezing fit, I decided I could do it. I could give false-but-real sounding information. And I just had to convince myself that it was true.

Or get Snape to help me.

Dammit, why do I always find myself asking him for help? I don't need help. Wait, yes I do!

I coughed and curled up in a little ball, figuring I should get some sleep. And I might feel better afterwards. And know what I should do.

I did not feel any better when I woke up. So, I managed to drag myself to the bathroom for a nice warm bath. Full of bubbles. I love bubbles. Bubbles make everything sexier.

So, as I sat in my warm bath, filled with bubbles, and sniffled, sneezing occasionally, I weighed my choices.

There was the option of saying I would spy on Remus, and giving false information. The downside was, if he found out I was lying, that would mean my death. And Remus's would probably soon follow.

So, I needed to stay alive as long as I could, to make sure he wasn't planning anything against Remus.

And, then, there was flat out refusing. Which would probably cause my death, too. Or torture.

And, of course, I would probably need Snape's help. And, dammit, I hate getting help. Especially his snide, belittling brand of so-called "help".

Now, what else was there? Oh, yes. Run away. No, I could not do that.

So, it seemed I had to go with the first choice. It seemed easiest. It seemed the most right. And it seemed like it would work.

I did not want to get out of the bath. It was rather relaxing, but, I needed to, in case I nodded off in the tub and drowned. I wouldn't be much use to anyone like that. And that's no way to go.

Snuggling up in my bathrobe a few minutes later, I felt like I wanted to get out of the loft. But I was too sick and too tired to go anywhere. I slept in the chair that night, since I couldn't even drag myself to bed.


	28. Chapter 28

How Does One Become Wicked?

Bubbles are the secks, dude!

Chapter 28

By the time I got better again, Remus had resigned from Hogwarts. Damn. But he sent me an owl every week.

Much to my surprise, and a little to my delight, he asked to meet me for lunch at The Leaky Cauldron.

He, as the gentleman, gave me a friendly hug, damn again, and held my chair out for me. "Thanks." I said with a small smile. "How have you been?"

"I've been better." he said with a sigh. "But I'm not complaining."

"You never do."

"No, I don't." he said, smiling a bit more. "How about you?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Same old, same old."

"Nothing new?" he asked lightly and I knew what he meant.

"No. Haven't seen him lately. Haven't seen him at all, actually. Why did you quit?" I asked, hoping not to be overheard.

"No reason." he said weakly. "So there's no news?"

"None."

I guess he figured I didn't want to talk about it anymore, and I was glad he changed the subject. "Did Dumbledore tell you about Sirius?"

"Yeah, he did." I sighed again, picking at my lunch. I wasn't that hungry and I was sure he wasn't either. "I figured he wouldn't do anything like that, anyway."

"Mm-hmm."

"Remus?" I asked in a whisper, leaning closer to him. Now or never, I thought. "Listen, I've not been honest with you. Voldemort gave me a job."

"And?"

"And I can't do it." I frowned.

"What do you mean you can't do it?" he asked, looking bewildered. "Gen, you've got to, or – or -- "

"I know, I know! But it might result in someone else's death if I go ahead with it."

"Well," he sighed, looking away. "How important is this job?"

I thought about it for a moment or two. "Well, I'm not sure if it's important as much as it is... a test of my loyalty."

"So, if you don't do it, he'll kill you? And if you do..."

"Exactly." I said, trying not to cry. I just couldn't come clean with him.

He glanced at his watch and frowned. "I think you should do it." he said quickly, getting to his feet and giving me another swift hug. "I'm sure you're much more valuable than whomever this would effect."

"You have no idea." I said sadly.


	29. Chapter 29

How Does One Become Wicked?

Because they make sexy dramatic lovers, of course!

Chapter 29

I won't do it! I won't! You can't make me! Dammit, I was in a pickle. A big pickle. Imagine the largest gherkin you have ever seen. Multiply it one thousand times. And it's still not big enough!

Me and my big mouth. I tell you what, I'm just never going to speak again. And I mean it!

Someone got word to the Dark Lord Asshole, I mean Voldemort, that I met with Remus. So, of course, he questioned me about it. And I came upon the losing end of the duel, I mean questioning.

So, I went back to my loft, to lick my wounds, and leave very attractive bloodstains on the carpet, when there was a knock at the door. "Oh, leave me alone, already!" I whispered, resuming the long, painful walk to the bathroom.

But the knocking was much more persistent. Once again, I ignored it.

Stupid me, I forgot to get more potions. So... yeah, I mopped myself up the best I could, still leaving attractive bloodstains everywhere I went, for some reason, he loves to attack my pretty face, and decided I needed a nap. Big time.

"GWENDOLYN! I KNOW YOU'RE HERE!"

"Oh, rapture!" I said listlessly, rolling off the couch and opening the door. "Hey, Remus."

"What happened to you?"

"I did exactly what you told me not to."

"You didn't!"

"Relax," I said, laughing weakly and flopping back on the couch. "I didn't. Someone just tipped him off that we met earlier this week."

"I'm sorry." he whispered. "That looks painful."

"It IS painful." I whined, stretching out on the couch again.

"You want me to go get you anything?" he asked gently, brushing my hair out of my face.

I shook my head. "I just want some company."

I don't know how long he stayed with me, because I fell asleep nearly immediately. When I woke up, he had left. And a small note was sitting on the end table.

_Sorry I left you, Gen. I feel like Dumbledore needs to know. I know you're going to get mad at me for telling him, and I'm sorry about that, too._

Oh, dammit, Remus! I'm so going to kick his arse.


	30. Chapter 30

How Does One Become Wicked?

Everyone loves attractive bloodstains. XD

Chapter 30

Oh, that Remus Lupin! So devilishly attractive, and caring, but why tell Dumbledore? This was so unfair. To me, anyway. Dumbledore did not need to know anything. If I wanted him to know what was going on, I'd've told him myself.

Granted, Snape probably blabbed everything.

But that's not the point!

Oh, this was wonderful. My head was killing me, I was fairly certain my wrist was broken, and Remus ran off to whine to Dumbledore.

Fan-damn-tastic.

I headed to the kitchen for some ice to put on my wrist, muttering darkly about turncoat werewolves and asshole dark lords. By the time i got to the living room again, dripping water on the floor, Dumbledore was smiling softly, sitting on my damn couch, right where I wanted to lay down.

"I hope you don't mind my intrusion, Gwendolyn."

"No, I don't." I said, wincing as I sank onto the nearby chair.

"Or Remus telling me what's going on?"

"Now that I do mind."

"Why do you mind that? Is it because you think you don't need our help?"

I scoffed and said, "I know I don't need your help. You all call me a murderous, treacherous bitch and then you expect me to come crawling back? No, I won't!"

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback, but stayed calm when he spoke next. "Gwendolyn, none of us ever said anything like that. None of us would!"

"Oh, don't act so high and mighty, Dumbledore! You, of all people, probably thought exactly that. And I know Mad-Eye, and James, to an extent, surely had that to say about me."

I guess he figured he couldn't reason with me, so he got up and said, "Actually, Gwendolyn, I know you better than that. But if you want me to leave, I shall."

"Please do." I said, getting up and holding the door for him, my wrist aching and slightly swollen.

He stopped at the door and glanced at my wrist. "Do you want me to -- "

"No."

After he left, I headed back into the living room, feeling far less tired than I had ten minutes before. How dare he expect me to go back to them? I might not be a loyal minion to Voldemort, but I wasn't going to be Dumbledore's puppet, either!

OK, so, yeah, I didn't HAVE to be so cruel. But, dammit, I'm tired of just being used! The only reason Dumbledore wanted me on his side was for information. Bullshit. He can get his own damn information!


	31. Chapter 31

How Does One Become Wicked?

Gen can swear at whoever she wants to swear at! She is Gwendolyn Elizabeth Moore, dammit!

OK, yeah, let's see that softer side that we all know is there.

Chapter 31

I woke up the next morning with a sharp pain in my wrist and a longing to speak to Sirius, of all people. But the only people who knew where he was, well, I was pissed with them. I sighed weakly and took a quick shower.

I had just gotten dressed and was running a brush through my hair when an owl swooped onto my windowsill.

"Now who are you from?" I asked as it landed on my bed and hooted.

It dropped the letter and flew back out, hooting once more. I grabbed the letter, a bit startled to see very familiar handwriting. "Wow. That's a creepy coincidence." I muttered as I read Sirius's letter.

Oh, that's wonderful. He was at Remus's. Dammit.

OK, I wanted to talk to him. And he was at Remus's. Now is that a sign, or is there irony there? Ah, well, and his owl flew off. So I had no way of telling him to come here.

_So, suck it up, Moore, and go over there!_

It's that damn voice again! But I suppose it was right. So, I gathered up what was left of my courage and headed to Remus's.

I hesitated before quickly knocking on the door. "Gwendolyn?"

"Sirius!" I said with a small, tired smile. "I thought you were an escaped convict. What are you doing answering doors?"

"No one ever comes by here." he shrugged, ushering me inside. "So I figured it was Dumbledore or someone like that."

"Hmm." I murmured, sinking on the couch.

"Hey, if you're looking for Remus, he's not here."

"I wanted to talk to you, but since you're going to be that way, I'll just back home, then."

"Me?" he asked, dumbfounded, sitting next to me. "What do you want to talk to me for? You can't stand me."

"Yeah, well, I figure you kind of know how I'm feeling right now."

He glanced at me again and muttered, "No, I don't know what you mean. But you should really get cleaned up. You look awful."

I shook my head. "I don't care about that. I mean, you know how it feels to be shunted. I mean..."

"I know." he said. "I know exactly what you're talking about. Half the Order doesn't trust me either. But I don't care about that."

"Well, I do!" I said with a small sniffle. "I do because I know I'm not like they think!"

"Well, Gen, don't worry about it if you know you're not evil."

I couldn't help myself. I burst into tears. Yes, I bawled like a baby. I broke down. Go on, I know you'll laugh at me. I don't give a damn.

But Sirius was beyond startled. "Gen," he began softly, "you really shouldn't let this bother you. As long as you know you haven't done wrong -- "

"That's not true!"

"What, you've done something awful?"

I shook my head. I was unsure of what I had done, to be honest. But I figure I had to have done something terrible back when I couldn't throw off the Imperius Curse. "I don't know." I whimpered. "But I – I have a job to do."

"What kind of job?" he asked softly.

"Spying. Maybe plotting a murder."

"But Gen -- "

"I said maybe! And I won't do it."

He looked slightly startled with me. "But if you don't -- "

"I know!" I wailed. "I can't do it! But if I don't... It's awful, Sirius. It really is."

"I don't doubt it." he muttered. "But please don't just forgo it. Do it if you must."

I sighed, wiping my eyes on my sleeves and stood up. "Thanks, Sirius." I muttered. "Thanks for nothing."


	32. Chapter 32

How Does One Become Wicked?

Dammit! I think we've learned Gen's favorite word, dammit!

How many times has she said that, anyway? XD

Chapter 32

OK. I'm mean, I know. I shouldn't have yelled at Sirius. Especially when I was the one who wanted to talk to him.

Hmm, let's think... who would hate me no matter what I do? Snape? No, he hates me anyway.

Oh, forget it, Gwendolyn. There's no one to talk to.

Dammit, what was I going to do? What else? Let's go get drunk. Maybe it'll kill the little voice in my head.

To The Hog's Head!

Oh, come on! You all know I'm a drunk! Or a developing drunk! Don't judge me! Judge Remus. For what I don't know.

I was about to get in the worst trouble I had ever been in. Stupid drunk me. Can't keep my mouth shut.

I was sitting at the bar, talking to Aberforth, who was threatening to cut me off, when someone made mention about Voldemort coming back after the Triwizard Tournament. Now, I wasn't there when he came back, but yeah, I knew he was back. My face knew he was back, OK?

"Please, like you have any idea about Voldemort and what he does." I muttered into my Firewhiskey.

"And you do?" The boy was no older than eighteen. His dark hair hung in his face and his blue eyes glittered suspiciously at me.

"Oh, no, of course she doesn't." Aberforth muttered quickly. "She's just had a little too much to drink. Don't mind her."

The boy scoffed and said, "Yeah, I doubt she knows what it's like to lose family to him, anyway."

"Excuse me? I lost my parents! Granted, I hated them both, I still lost them."

He looked as though he didn't believe me. "Muggleborn?"

"Yes, I am, thank you. And I'll appreciate you not announcing it to the world next time."

He started to laugh me, damn him, and said, "Looks like he's done a deal on you, too. Let you live? That's surprising."

OK, so I had had enough of that little git. I pulled out my wand, and, before I realized what the hell it was I was doing, I muttered, "_Crucio!_"

Next thing I knew, I was at the Ministry of Magic, trying to explain myself, trying to keep my balance, and retaining a firm grip on my wand.

"It seems to me, she's too drunk to know what she was doing. I don't think she meant to really torture that boy." called a calm voice from the door.

"There's several witnesses in the pub that'll tell you that he egged her on. He harassed her." another voice added.

Oh, great. Dumbledore and Aberforth to the rescue.

"But she used an Unforgivable! You expect me to let her off the hook for that?"

"No, not entirely. But take in consideration that she is drunk and she was harassed by that kid."

"Kid shouldn't have been in the pub, anyway." Aberforth muttered. "I kicked him out weeks ago."

"So... you're saying he wasn't supposed to be in the pub?" Fudge asked, looking from one to the other. "So it's his own fault?"

"Basically." Aberforth nodded.

"Fine." Fudge muttered, glaring at me. "Fine. She won't go to Azkaban. But she will be heavily fined, maybe even put under house arrest for a little while. And she's not allowed to drink." He seemed right ready to get us out of his office.

"Come on, Gwendolyn. I'll take you home."

I said nothing. Dammit, I could have defended myself! Well, no, I was drunk and Fudge was getting ready to throw me in Azkaban. I guess I had to be grateful.


	33. Chapter 33

How Does One Become Wicked?

Gen don't screw around when she's drunk, does she? This chapter is totally for Pink Eraser, since she kind of gave me the idea. And helped with Snape.

Gen and Snape are great comedic relief.

Chapter 32

House arrest does not bode well with being a Death Eater. And I really wasn't surprised when Snape showed up at my door. Really. I wasn't.

Apparently, Voldemort wanted to have some fun. And his idea of fun isn't lingerie parties. It's, duh, murders. And Snape, myself, and a couple of others were to stand watch and act as a sort of guard for him in case any Ministry officials showed up.

And, well, I of course, had another spaz attack, to say the least. "Snape, I can't do this! I'm not a murderer! Besides, I'm in trouble with the Ministry as it it!" And, of course, I started to hyperventilate.

"Calm down, woman!" Snape hissed. When I didn't, he ever-so-politely smacked me.

"Ow!" I cried, rubbing my cheek. "Dammit, Snape, why the hell did you hit me?"

"If you don't shut up, you'll get us both killed." he hissed.

I felt like slapping him, but what good would have come from that? So, I merely resorted to sticking my tongue out at the back of his head.

"And I saw that." he added.

"Got greasy eyes in the back of your greasy head, do you?"

He glared at me, but didn't answer. I continued to giggle silently behind his back. I planted myself on a tree stump and sighed heavily. "Now, now, Moore. We haven't been out too long."

"I've been on my feet all day, dammit." I muttered, which was entirely true. I had resorted to doing several things at once to keep myself occupied and from going crazy with loneliness. "Now piss off."

"You're so spoiled." he muttered, rolling his eyes and frowning.

"So what if I am?" I countered. "I'm not as spoiled as some people."

"True."

I sat rubbing my cheek for a little while longer until he glared at me and told me to get up.

Grumbling, I got to my feet. Snape is not the best person to joke around with. And I was in a joking mood. Stupid Snape and his stuck up attitude. Or whatever the hell his problem was.

I humbled myself to leaning casually against a nearby tree and smirked at him. "What?" he asked with another glare at me.

"Nothing." I said, continuing to smirk. I loved pushing his buttons. And since Voldemort figured I was their equal or something, he could do nothing about it.

Except mutter darkly at me.

I glanced at my watch and swore. I needed to get home. Before the Ministry official arrived to make sure I was home and not drunk.

"I have to go, Snape. Cover for me."

"Why should I?"

"Just do it!" I hissed before Disapparating.


	34. Chapter 34

How Does One Become Wicked?

Two words: Parchment is a letter. Oh, wait. That's four. Silly me.

Chapter 34

You would think, with my being under house arrest, I wouldn't be expected at meetings. Oh, no. No, no, no. I still had to show up.

Which is just great, by the way.

I was so miserable. So tired of Voldemort and his plans of doom and destruction. And I was damn tired of Snape smirking at me. Shove my foot up his arse, he won't be smirking then.

Anywho, Voldemort, of course, took me aside. And, as he put it, is "growing tired of my wavering loyalty". What loyalty? I am only loyal to myself. And Remus. I think. If I'm not still pissed with him.

"You left the other night. We could have been killed. And you still have yet to supply me with any information at all."

"I told you," I said before I could stop myself, "I won't do that to Remus."

"Maybe, then, I can change your mind. Or I'll let Fenrir do it."

I stared at him, unable to stare him down. He wasn't bluffing. But, nor was I when I spoke next. "You can let Fenrir maul me. You can torture me, but I've got my own tricks to pull." Including this little notebook here.

He glared at me once more and said, "I have further business. Get out of my sight before I do torture you a bit."

I headed back home, muttering to myself, finding I had inadvertently let slip that I might be telling someone what was going on. Damn my big mouth.

No wonder he was pissed with me.

Ah, well, as I thought about it, I was shocked to realize I had made it this long. I guess I had that to be proud of.

I guess.

Mainly, though, I realized I was doomed to a life of loneliness. Dammit. Just my luck, you know? I can't stand being alone. I know, it seems odd of me to mention that, but I don't. I can't stand it, because, then I'll usually start to drink and Sirius once told me he didn't want me to wind up like my mother.

I know he would have made good boyfriend material, but I just hate his personality. If that's possible. He can go from the sweetest person I know to the world's biggest git in about two seconds.

What am I talking about him for? What am I doing babbling to myself? I think I've lost it, really.

Ah, well. I headed home a bit surprised there was an owl waiting for me on the coffee table. And far more surprised it had, not a letter, but a package.

"Now, what's this about?" I asked myself, grabbing the small box and staring at the owl curiously. I had never seen this bird before. And I had no clue who's handwriting it was on the package.

Aw, screw it. I've lived a full, short life. Let's open it.

I came to, I guess a few hours, with Snape looking at me with a mixture of confusion and a look that just oozed "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to open mysterious packages?"

"You OK?" he asked, looking from me to the tiny box on the floor; a pale yellow powder splattered the floor, looking innocent.

"Yeah, I guess. What IS that stuff?"

"I'm not entirely sure. It appears to be a mixture of several things. And I think you had an allergic reaction to it."

"Well, that's wonderful."

"What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't." I said, hoping to wipe the smug look off his face. But he just got even smugger. If that's possible. "Are you happy? I wasn't."

"No." he muttered, waving his wand, causing that powder to vanish. "Just don't open any more boxes, OK?"

"Aye, aye." I said, saluting him. Captain Greasy Git.


	35. Chapter 35

How Does One Become Wicked?

Sweet ideas, but no. It's an older letter, if that gives you any hint, which it probably will...

And I'm trying to squeak this to forty chapters. TRYING is the key word there.

Chapter 35

Something was up. I could just tell. It, well, everything, just seemed horribly wrong. You would think I would be used to something being up, but no.

But I did find out who sent that package. Fenrir, of course. He was boasting about it. "Like your little present, Moore?" he asked swiftly as I passed.

"Oh, not as much as you hoped." I smirked, really glad that Snape was around to save the day, to say the least.

And, he, apparently, wasn't too happy I lived through whatever that was. But I would never tell him that Snape was the one who got rid of it for me.

You would think I would be wary and keep my mouth shut after an attempt on my life. But, no. Stupid me and my chattering away. At least it was only to Snape, though, and not someone who could really get me killed.

Let me just state right here and now that I don't trust him. I honestly do not trust that man. But, then again, who have I trusted? I can count them on one hand.

Boy, that was a bit random.

What's even more random is that Snape was showing concern for me. He kept telling me to get out of this while I still had a chance.

"No, I can't leave." I said, my tone light and simple.

"And why not?"

"I just can't, Severus." He looked politely confused to the fact that I called him Severus instead of one of the names I usually call him. "Oh, don't look so shocked." I added at the look on his face. "Or I'll start calling you Captain Greasy Git again."

"I prefer Severus." he muttered, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at me.

I glared back. "And don't even think of bothering Dumbledore about this. Whatever 'this' is."

"And if I do?"

I tried to think or a suitable threat, but, finding none, I sighed and said, "Just don't. It's none of his concern."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't. And it isn't any of yours, either." I added. "Look, no one gives a rip about the lone bi-polar Muggleborn. It's, like, a fact of life or something"

"You really think that?"

"Mm-hmm." I muttered, looking away from him. "And don't pretend you care. I know you're under orders to keep an eye on me."

He scoffed. "Yeah, under orders. Lupin's orders."

"You're not tricking me, Snape."

"So, we're back to Snape are we?"

I glowered at him a moment longer, then said, "I'm not in the mood, Snape. I need to get home, anyway. Something tells me I have a will to sort out."


	36. Chapter 36

How Does One Become Wicked?

Mm-hmm, a will. I just adore Gen and Snape together, no, as a couple, but just as a comedic duo if you will.

Chapter 36

I was sitting by myself at The Hog's Head, sniffling and burying my sorrows in a bottle of Firewhiskey. "Has anyone ever told you drinking is bad for you?" someone hissed in my ear.

"Snape, I really don't care what's bad for me right now. I've got a death sentence from the way Voldemort keeps eying me. So why should I give a damn?"

"Because we can get you out of this without you getting killed." he muttered, sitting next to me with a slight smirk on his face.

I groaned and said, "Snape, I'm not in the mood for you tonight."

He frowned and snatched my bottle of Firewhiskey away from me and said, "Look, just follow me, OK?"

Getting up, I muttered, "I would follow you to the ends of the earth... as long as there was an open bar waiting for me when I got there."

"You and drinking." Snape grumbled. "It's going to be the death of you."

"Voldemort is going to be the death of me." I laughed.

He muttered something about me not taking anything seriously. I wanted to argue that I take anything and everything serious. Very serious. But I did not feel like arguing with anyone then and there.

"Where are we going?" I asked with a heavy sigh, my feet aching and longing to Disapparate back to the pub to finish my drink.

"Someone wishes to speak to you."

"Who would want to talk to me?" I asked, frowning.

"A friend of yours."

I sighed weakly and continued to follow Snape as we finally made it to a tiny inn. "What -- ?"

"Ssh." Snape hissed, pushing the door open and motioning for me to follow him. "In there." he muttered, brushing past the landlady with a tiny wave.

"Remus?" I asked, sinking next to him at the small table. "Now what do you want?"

"Snape told me what's going on. Why didn't you tell me?"

I must have looked confused. Because I sure felt it. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"You were sent to spy on me! And yet, you would much rather die than do that!"

"I couldn't let anything happen to you!" I argued, getting to my feet and heading for the door. "If anything happened, I wouldn't be able to take it, OK? Are you happy?"

"No, I'm not! You basically signed your own death sentence, Moore!"

"Moore?" I scoffed. "Since when do you call me Moore?"

"Since you go and do something stupid like this!"

"Stupid?" I cried out. "Stupid? Saving your life is stupid? Well, fine. Be that way. I don't give a damn anymore!" I shrieked, storming out of the room with Snape hot on my heels.

"Now," he began, handing me a handkerchief, "doesn't that feel better? Now that you got that all out?"

"No!" I sniffled. "No, it doesn't."

He frowned and said, "Forget Lupin. He doesn't care about you like you want him to. So just leave it at this."

"I – I can't." I whimpered. "I just can't, OK?"

He scoffed and Disapparated, leaving me to my sorrow.


	37. Chapter 37

How Does One Become Wicked?

No, no one understands Gen, do they? He is trying to help. In his own way, of course.

Chapter 37

I headed home, feeling lonely and really unwanted. Was that what Snape wanted? To soften me up? No. I don't think that was it.

But I felt... well... I can't really describe it. But it hurt.

I heaved a sigh and decided then and there that I would probably never speak to one Severus Snape. Ever again.

I could not believe he did that. Why would he go and tell Remus? Remus really did not need to know. And I don't need this right now!

With a tiny sigh, I headed to my bedroom. Crossing to the wardrobe, I flung it open and rummaged inside for something. I sent robes and personal effects aside and finally found what I was looking for.

Now to find a quill. This was going to take a while.

Nearly an hour later, I set the long sheet of parchment aside. I heaved another sigh and grabbed the smaller piece of parchment, pondered what exactly I was going to write, then began to scribble.

A loud knock downstairs jarred me from my thoughts. Grumbling, I headed downstairs to answer the door. "What? I'm very busy."

"I... just wanted to apologize. What are you busy with?"

I stared at him for a second, then said, "What does it matter to you, Lupin? Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"I just wanted to see if you were OK, Gwendolyn. It's no reason to become snippy."

I fought the urge to slam the door in his face and said, "Oh, yes, I'm perfectly fine."

Remus folded his arms over his chest and said, "Gen, is there ever any time when you aren't being sarcastic?"

I thought for a moment, then lied and said, "No."

"Gen..."

"Forget it, Lupin."I sighed, leaning against the door frame. "Just... that's not all you wanted to come here for, is it?"

Remus shrugged and said, "Just be careful, all right?"

I managed a weak smile and gave him a swift hug. "You, too. I'm not the only one out there risking my neck. Don't owl me. I know you'll get in trouble."

"Thanks." he whispered.

I wanted so badly to say something else, but before I could, he left. "Great." I sighed, heading upstairs. "Just wonderful."


	38. Chapter 38

How Does One Become Wicked?

Chapter 38

I felt as though my end were near. So, I spent the following couple of days tucked away in my room, trying to finish letters, a will, things of that sort.

I checked and double-checked, hell, even triple-checked, this notebook, making sure all my notes were right. And decided, that, before the next meeting, I should hide it.

Yes, I realize it is rather stupid of me to keep these notes. And not tell anyone. And not want anyone to see them, but it... it was kind of important to me.

A therapy or sorts, if you will.

It will probably come as a shock, but I – I holed myself in my house for the last few days. There was only one other time I did that.

And I don't want to repeat that.

I didn't answer my door. I didn't answer owl post. And I'm pretty sure there was a rumor going around that I was all ready dead.

And I didn't care.

The eve of that meeting, I checked my will, letters, and things like that once more. Made sure they were where someone could quickly get their hands on it. Maybe a Ministry official. I don't know who handled wills and such.

Oh, well.

I settled myself in my comfy armchair and stared at the clock. But, I could not escape my inevitable death. So, here goes everything...

The bottom of the page was ripped, as though she had written that last bit in a hurry. Several pages were folded back as though she had crammed it in her hiding place without a care for the pages, or whether they were ripped beyond repair.

"So... he killed her that night?" Dumbledore asked slowly.

Snape nodded. "He... wanted to drag it out. Make her squirm."

"But she did not allow it?"

Snape scoffed and said, "You know how she was. She wasn't going to allow him to make the best of her."

Dumbledore nodded and said with a small frown, "Severus, it's been a long night. You may go."

Snape turned to leave and when he did, he heard the crinkle of parchment under his foot. "Now, what's this?" he asked, picking it up and slowly examining it.


	39. Chapter 39

How Does One Become Wicked?

Chapter 39

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, looking at the tiny bit of parchment curiously.

"A letter." Snape answered, turning the parchment over between his fingers. Silently, he handed it to Dumbledore, who hesitated before reading it.

_Gen,_

_Turns out you were right. And I was wrong not to worry. And I'm sorry._

_Listen, stay hidden. Keep yourself safe. Dumbledore needs you to keep him informed. Forget about everything else and don't reveal yourself to Voldemort._

_You're far more important than you think you are. You never give yourself credit when you need to._

_Saving you a seat in Hell,_

_James_

_P.S. Keep an eye on Remus. I know I really don't need to ask you to, but Remus can be easily influenced. Sirius can take care of himself. Like you would really keep an eye on him if I asked you to._

"Well," Dumbledore sighed, "if there is an after-life, James isn't really too happy with her right now, now is he?" He was trying to lighten the now-somber mood.

"No, he's not." Snape scoffed. "I wonder what he meant by her being right?"

"I think she told him that Voldemort had marked him and Lily for dead. And he didn't believe her. Or she told him about Pettigrew."

"She never did give herself credit, did she?" Snape asked Dumbledore, who nodded sadly. "All her credit went to Lupin."

Dumbledore cocked his head and asked, "And you're not too happy with that? May I ask why?"

"Because! She's dead because of the fact that she loved him enough to refuse Voldemort. And he never cared about her in that way."

"You're saying that her death was unnecessary?"

Snape was silent for a moment, then said, "That's putting it mildly."

Dumbledore managed a small smile and asked, "You valued her friendship, didn't you?"

Snape shook his head. "No, mainly because she never considered me a friend. And I didn't call her a friend, either. And this goes further than house rivalry. She was whiny and annoying."

"But she couldn't help that."

"No, she couldn't." Snape muttered, feeling defeated. "If you don't mind, sir..."

"By all means." Dumbledore nodded, handing the notebook and letter to Snape. "What are you going to do with it?"

"Give it to Lupin."


	40. Chapter 40

How Does One Become Wicked?

Chapter 40

Snape tucked the notebook and the letter safely away in his cloak until he could speak to Remus alone. And he did not plan on being nice about it, either.

When he finally got his chance, he tossed the notebook on the table in front of Remus. "What's this?" Remus asked, gingerly turning the first few pages of the notebook, taking in the familiar handwriting. He glanced abck up at Snape and asked, "Where did you get this?"

"Moore left it, hidden away, at her loft." he muttered. "Go on, read it."

"Why?" Remus asked, looking slightly nervous.

Snape smirked and answered with a swift, "Because it'll show exactly what you missed."

Remus, having no idea what he meant, began to thumb through the pages of the notebook, continuing to frown. "You're rubbing this in my face. Why?" he asked a few minutes later, turning a torn page.

"Oh, no. Not rubbing it in your face. Just showing you that Moore's death needn't have happened. This soon, anyway."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Snape scoffed. "Please, why would I?"

Remus glanced at him and said, "Well, gee, you've shoved this in my face, I figured you're tormenting me or something."

"I am."

"Yeah, you are, aren't you?" Remus muttered, carefully turning the last page of the book. With a sigh, he asked, "Is that all? Or do you have something else to make this worse?"

Continuing to smirk, Snape withdrew the letter from his cloak and handed it to Remus. "I'm sure you'll enjoy that."

"OK, I get it!" Remus exclaimed, tossing the letter on the table. "You're saying this is my fault. Now, will you let it go?"

"No. If you had returned Gwendolyn's feelings, she wouldn't be six feet under, now would she?"

"No, she would have been dead faster."

"Even Voldemort knows not to annoy werewolves. She would have been safer with you, even as cowardly as you can get." Snape said, getting to his feet and sending one last glare at Remus before he Disapparated.


End file.
